There is no quarter this day
This day of villainy
Where I stumble
To a ruthless demise

Unravel
You marauding and beastly hours
Till the shadows
Encompass your crimes

I am short on faith
With a cold buried smile
Rotting leagues in the muck
Of a cast-iron scowl

I’ll softly withdraw
At my lowest of lows
But I’ll soon return
To sow fury and wrath